


Newcomer

by Padjal_Protector



Series: Tales from the Twelveswood [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-22 03:06:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20867177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Padjal_Protector/pseuds/Padjal_Protector
Summary: Hard work pays off, and upon leaving Ishgard behind Van looks forward to better things.





	Newcomer

**Author's Note:**

> I keep deleting/reposting things because I'm still unfamiliar with proper organization for AO3. I will learn! Shorter than usual bit of writing, mostly to set up a nice timeline for myself.

Leaving Ishgard had bestowed upon Vantelmont a dull sense of melancholy in the pit of his stomach. He’d been preparing for a few years, certainly, but now that he was ready it felt a little surreal. He’d finally amassed _ just enough _ gil, he felt, to make a proper fresh start away from the city of his birth. It was almost as though the world had been working against him at every turn, forcing him to work three times as hard to manage the task, but the elezen triumphed.   
  
Securing transportation had been tricky, but his earnest honesty had turned out to be a boon when a merchant took mercy on him. Granted, passage still cost him gil, but the fact that they’d agreed at all had Vantelmont over the moon. Once a date had been agreed on, Van rushed to both pack what few meager belongings he’d bring with him, and (agonizingly) spend a bit on appropriate attire. Coerthas was biting cold all the way through of course, and there was no saying when a storm would hit the small caravan. Van had no interest in succumbing to something like illness along the way.

He wasn’t sure what the feeling in his gut was when he left that cramped room for the last time, or when from the back of the merchant’s cart, he saw the imposing silhouette of Ishgard slowly recede. Perhaps it would be difficult to grow accustomed to being elsewhere, he'd never been away from Ishgard before. Part of him would miss the familiarity, the memories of his childhood spent with his family, of course.

Though, as he absently adjusted his scarf to partly obscure the deep scar on his face, there were certainly things he wouldn’t miss.

Each stop along the merchant's route brought him farther and farther from Isghard. Still was the familiar snow and biting cold winds, but there were also brief moments of respite near a warm Inn's hearth and the lively sounds of the patrons and conversations. The journey proved, thankfully, without issues.

Upon his initial arrival to Gridania, after Vantelmont got over the sheer ‘wonder’ of it all, he’d had a time of simply getting to know the place. He would make the most of this new city, and the clean slate it provided. From what he’d noticed in getting familiar with Gridania’s paths, shops and guilds, the atmosphere already felt lighter. He was an outsider, yes, but even the suspicious glance here and there from citizen or wood wailer felt less like daggers in his back than being looked down on for being poor had felt in Ishgard. That, and the absolute change of scenery had been astounding. No snow, no bitter cold winds, and so much greenery.

This only made him more determined to learn as much as possible about Gridania and the Twelveswood. As it was, Vantelmont couldn’t just sight see. Wandering and getting a feel for the place also had him with watching for any signs of work he might be able to pick up. It wasn’t until he’d taken an odd turn down a path that he came across what turned out to be the Botanist’s guild. After taking a look around, aside from his wonder at the greenery being tended there he managed a bit of small talk with Fufucha. As the guild master, the lalafel gave Van a run down of what they did, as their duty was to guide and nurture aspiring botanists so they could in turn nurture the life in the Twelveswood. Fufucha had admitted to being from a barren land and since then had dreamed to live and work amid a more flourishing landscape. It was comforting to see someone else had come from another land and settled quite well. In addition, of course, he’d noticed another running theme. Van had seen the same attitude all over the place, others speaking of either giving back to the Twelveswood, and protecting it. A bit more talk had led to Van squeaking by and getting a work opportunity with the guild. 

It’d would just lifting and moving things. Delivering this or that. Honestly, nothing different than the odd jobs he’d taken on in his younger years in Ishgard. Van didn’t mind the idea, it would give him an opportunity to further familiarize himself with Gridania and learn a new skill when he had the chance to observe and get his hands dirty with the actual tending of the plants. Van, not having known much in the way of cultivating greenery, was interested in it.

Getting gil was also sure to be helpful, given he would quickly go through what he’d brought with him and had little desire to be ill equipped to afford the modest room at the Roost he’d managed. 

Completely enthused now with even the slightest bit of direction he’d gained so quickly upon arriving, he had more or less followed a crowd at the Amphitheatre, unaware of the ceremony to take place. He pushed his thoughts away for the moment then, filing in quietly with the others among the hushed, awed whispers when she came into view. 

She, of course, being the Elder Seedseer herself. Beneath the canopy of the Amphitheatre, followed by Gridania’s other padjal, her Serpent guards staying within appropriate distance of her. There was clapping, and those soft words amid the citizens until they fell silent. In truth, Van had been silent the moment the woman came into his field of vision. Standing there, lost in the crowd, the elezen just _ stared. _

He didn’t exactly know much about Padjal, not so soon after arriving. Of course that wasn’t why he was staring, though the horns atop the woman’s head were a notable feature. When she began to speak, he tried to listen, but found himself in complete distraction just watching her. He’d had infatuations before and this was likely more of the same, but by the Fury she was breathtaking. She spoke of the Warriors of Light, the Adventurers who fought for Eorzea, the Calamity. When she spoke, her words were gentle and kind, her features serene. Yet still, there was a resolute tone underlying it all. His mind flashed with imagery he didn't understand, bursts of voices and a scene he certainly hadn't seen with his own eyes. 

It felt like for a moment the world seemed to sway, just from listening to her spin the tale. 

….unfortunately that hadn’t _just_ been his almost boyish admiring of the woman, it’d been exhaustion from travel and refusing to pause even a moment since arriving that had led to him losing consciousness, apparently. 

When he awoke, it’d been under the watchful gaze of Mother Miounne. She recounted to him what had happened, and for the next few minutes tried her best to assure him it ‘hadn’t been that bad’. 

Van was, of course, mortified and hoped against hope he hadn’t inadvertently ruined the Elder Seedseer’s whole ceremony. Not exactly how he wanted to be noticed. He also had to lament not having been able to attend the entire thing.

Still, he had found yet another reason (as childish as it might’ve been) to love Gridania. 

That aside, settling into a new life went smoothly for Van, much more than he’d expected. He’d made a few casual friends, and slowly began gaining some skills with botany while working with the guild. It was troublesome at first, given he had no experience with plants or flowers of any kind. He couldn't even recall seeing half the greenery he was being exposed to in Gridania when he'd lived in Ishgard. Never afraid to get his hands dirty, he truly threw himself into learning what the guild could teach him. He wanted to be able to contribute and give back to the Twelveswood, after all.

In idle moments, he had to wonder however, what those flashes of imagery had been. The voices and the scenes, they'd felt almost dreamlike and yet, so real. As it was, regrettably, he couldn't quite ask anyone about it, so he decided it must've just been the exhaustion. Maybe even delirium, for all he knew. The coming weeks hadn't had him experiencing it again, so it was likely a strange trick of the mind.

He was growing more comfortable with Gridania. He was _happy_.

Vantelmont hadn’t anticipated taking to the lance at all, it was an accident. 

Dropping by the Lancer’s guild had been on a friend’s impulse of wanting to try their hand at it. Ywain had been accommodating enough to the attempt, and while Van’s companion had dropped the damned thing (and nearly taken out a nearby weapon’s rack), Van himself had a better handle on it. In fact, even lacking technique the elezen had enough force and precision on the target that a brief chat with Ywain after had planted the idea in his head.

As an elezen from the Brume, he hadn’t ever considered any kind of training like this before. The chance wasn’t given to someone like him, he never would’ve even dreamed of it in his idle thoughts. However, that was Ishgard and this was very much not Ishgard. Van mulled over the idea still, unsure, until he caught sight of an enlisted officer of the Twin Adder. If he managed to train enough, learned enough, perhaps he could enlist and make something of himself here. Enlisting would certainly mean, in his own way, giving back to a city that he was slowly making his home. 

It would also mean, maybe,_ possibly, _ getting a chance to see her again, _maybe_ even up close. 

With that, the elezen’s mind was certainly made up.


End file.
